To Err is Human
by The Back Corner Kid
Summary: The catch 22 of life is that we cannot escape our fate and the fate of those who made us, but sometimes, destiny is not completely binding…as long as you don't let it shackle you. XX OC Character, OCxGeorge Weasley and OCxDraco Malfoy, Based in the Goblet of Fire arc XX


**Plot Summary: **Hilda, a fifth year student at a magical institution in America, is one of the chosen few of students who are able to witness the resurrection of the TriWizard tournament at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a study abroad class. Despite this opportunity, Hilda is outcasted due to her family's dark past, and her old family friend, Draco Malfoy, is not making it any easier to shed her label as a marked child and to prove to others that she does not possess the bad blood of her prejudice pureblood mother and father.

**A/N: **Rated T for suggestive adult themes and language. If, by chance, it starts turning more mature, I will put proper warning ahead of time. Please feel free to critique my work! I haven't written a fanfiction story in a long time.

xXXX

**Preface: A Small Beginning**

The earliest memory that I can recollect is that of my Granny and Papa and their discussion over the morning's _The Eagle_, the national newspaper for American witches and wizards. It might have been in August because I remember that it was still hot and the neighbor's kids had already left to Dogwood Academy, the Southeast's undergraduate school for magic. Granny was so enthralled that she never stopped stirring her coffee with her wand, but I knew that her interest wasn't that of curiosity. She looked disgusted. Her top lip was curled and her forehead was furrowed, bringing more attention to her wrinkles than I had ever noticed before.

"This proud country is going to the dogs, Bill. New names. Dirty bloods, more than likely, trying to weave into our milieu and taint our pure history. Look," she pointed to something at the page, "Who is this Nancy Needham? Where is Miss Gerdie's editorial?"

I only recognized Miss Gerdie Crenshaw's name because Granny would cut out clips of her pieces and hang them on the wall. Miss Gerdie, who's hair was bigger than her body, would write Pro-Purity articles, which, at the time, I never understood what that meant, and when I asked, my Granny would pat my head or hand and tell me, "Don't worry about it, child. You never need to worry about anything because we are pure."

"Needham?" Papa fixed his glasses. "Ain't that the new family from Oregon?"

"Whoever she is, I despise this woman. Listen to this, Bill. She says, and I quote, _the terms 'mudblood' and 'halfies' are highly offensive and derogatory words to brand witches and wizards who have either one or both non-magical parents, yet neither "types" seem to have lesser magical talent then those from all wizard family. Take, for example, Ralph Yates, the muggleborn wizard from Texas, who currently found the anti-venom of the New Mexican Chupacabra. Thus blood hierarchy and blood labels should be tossed aside to create a more accepting country where our children can be viewed as individuals instead focusing solely on surnames._

"_This prejudice is also the reason behind England's terrorist's, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, cleansing of 'stained' blood, and even though the battle was brought to a head across the pond, one can see the destruction it caused here in America. Sources claim another war has begun, a war between the blood labels, despite the fact that our own Dark War (between America's Death Eaters and the Freedom Fighters) has yet to end, though the war in Europe ended two years ago with the Dark Lord's downfall._"

"Ah, she is one of those types, a blood-lover," Papa scorned and shook his head.

"Such blasphemy. Purebloods founded this country and such disrespect is appalling," Granny spat as she flipped to the back of the newspaper. "As I thought. She's a dirty mudblood."

"Granny, why should it matter if they have muggle parents? If they can get wands, don't they have a little bit of magic in them?"

Before I could even contemplate what I had said, Granny had rolled up the newspaper and smacked me across the face. "Fools never prosper, Hilda. Now, go play with your brother outside before I get a switch and hit your fanny. I'll call y'all when breakfast is ready."

That was the last weekend my brother and I spent with Granny and Papa. A few days later, my father and mother were incarcerated for their associations with the American Death Eaters. My father, apparently, was one of the generals in the Death Eater's army due to his direct contact with the Dark Lord through the Malfoy family in England (I didn't know who they were, but I heard rumors that they were put on trial but acquitted). My mother was charged with numerous counts of using a torture curse.

My parent's trial was displayed all over the newspapers in America. My Granny committed suicide due to her embarrassment, and my Papa fled due to accusations that he murdered her. The Newberry name was destroyed with my parent's imprisonment, to the point where my aunt and uncle disowned us.

With no family to take care of us, my brother and I were placed in Convict's Care, a facility for children who's parents were in prison.

My name is Hilda Estelle Newberry. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm a Marked Child.


End file.
